Going to the plant nursery this weekend to get our sunflowers for growing. My depression is a constant reminder of this entangling plague, which has had a grip on me as long as I've been alive. I hate this... (Sorry, in a funk right now). Thank you Kathryn and Mel for inviting me to be part of this. I like it.

When you think about it, unless there is something physically wrong that can be fixed, most of the rest of psychiatry is about being a sounding board and expecting the patient to find a reference from which that person works out a protocol of thought and actions that allow him to be able to get along with others and himself. That way, at least he may be productive or more productive in society. In other words, you learn to live with it, bubbling under the surfaces of consciousness, somewhere.

When you think about it, unless there is something physically wrong that can be fixed, most of the rest of psychiatry is about being a sounding board and expecting the patient to find a reference from which that person works out a protocol of thought and actions that allow him to be able to get along with others and himself. That way, at least he may be productive or more productive in society. In other words, you learn to live with it, bubbling under the surfaces of consciousness, somewhere.